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skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2011-10-29 12:36 pm
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What's a Thief to a King? M!DB/Ulfric 23/??
(Anonymous) 2013-02-12 11:23 am (UTC)(link)Ralof covered his hand with his own. “Dyce,” he smiled kindly. “I can’t tell you how many free drinks I’m going to get with that. So don’t look so concerned.”
Ralof’s hand moved to cup Dyce’s cheek, and Dyce leaned upwards and kissed him. They ground against each other, not hurried, savouring the warm space they’d created in the fleeces, letting their blood stir at its own pace.
Ralof ran his hands down Dyce’s back, slipping his blunt fingers under the his pants and palming his arse while Dyce worked his way along Ralof’s jaw, his fingers tangling in his blonde hair. They hummed and purred, and Dyce knew where Ralof was ticklish and he tickled him until the Nord pinned his arms and rolled them over.
Ralof got him back by pressing hard kisses to his face, rubbing his stubble across Dyce’s nose while he squirmed and chuckled. He worked a hand free of Ralof’s grip and snuck it down the Nord’s pants and ran his fingers through the curls until Ralof angled his hips up and Dyce relented and squeezed his handsome cock.
They stroked each other and put off the dawn with kisses both deep and teasing and whispered jokes and rolled eyes. They came quietly, unable to put it off any longer, open mouthed and shuddering. So tired from their days on the road, they slept pressed right against each other, with barely room to breathe, let alone move. But they wrapped their arms firmly around each other and wouldn’t have dreamed of separating.
Dyce didn’t dream of Sovngarde. He dreamt of a crown.
~~~
Dawn broke over the world, and the Stormcloak army, from hardened warriors to farmer’s daughters, from silver-haired battle maidens to boys barely growing stubble, rose and sharpened the weapons and said their prayers. Ulfric and his generals were awake early, riding through the ranks, reminding the troops what they were fighting for, and who they would be fighting with.
“The barricades are going to be a problem,” Galmar said, as they met again at the head of the column. “We’ve got a battering ram for the gate, but while we’re getting it up there the archers are going to make mincemeat of our troops.”
“The Dragonborn and I can take care of them,” Ulfric said. “Our Thu’um is strong enough to sweep them aside over the cliff.”
“My Jarl,” Galmar said. “Is that the wisest strategy? You’ll be vulnerable out there.”
“Somewhat,” Ulfric said with a faint smile. “Our archers will provide cover, but every offensive has its risks. Solitude is a city built strategically for defense. We’ll have to fight for every foot of ground once we get inside.”
Galmar looked at Dyce, perhaps hoping he’d disagree with Ulfric’s plan, but he merely nodded. “I’m game.”
“So be it,” Galmar said. “I will have your back, Jarl Ulfric.”
“I always knew you would.”
“I think I’d like a shield,” Dyce said mildly. The others chuckled and Dyce was offered a large selection from the troops as his request was passed down.
“It’s an honour, Stormblade.” The shield he eventually selected belonged to a tall woman with a long blond plait wrapped around her head.
“Please tell me you have a spare,” Dyce said, adjusting it on his arm, and frowning.
They started marching early, when the morning sun would be in the eyes of the defending archers, and it glittered off the weapons of the troops massing before the walls to Solitude. Dyce caught Ulfric’s eye, and he nodded; right behind you. Right until the end.
Ulfric raised his axe. They waited, on his command.
“For Talos! For Skyrim!” His voice carried, and a hundred others took up the shout. Dyce loping close to his side, Ulfric led the charge up the hill, to where Solitude’s gates awaited, braced against them.
“Left,” Ulfric said, his voice carrying low and clear below the clamour behind them.
Dyce took a deep breath.
FUS RO DAH
Dyce splintered the wooden barricades, knocking the troops behind them off their feet. Ulfric’s Voice buffeted away the first volley of arrows that arced towards them, and Dyce could hear the whistle of the return fire from the troops behind.